Rainbow Valley eBook

“The boys were fishing for eels over the bridge,”
said Carl. “Link Drew had caught a whopper—­I
mean an awful big one—­the biggest eel I
ever saw. He caught it right at the start and
it had been lying in his basket a long time, still
as still. I thought it was dead, honest I did.
Then old Mrs. Carr drove over the bridge and she
called us all young varmints and told us to go home.
And we hadn’t said a word to her, father, truly.
So when she drove back again, after going to the
store, the boys dared me to put Link’s eel in
her buggy. I thought it was so dead it couldn’t
hurt her and I threw it in. Then the eel came
to life on the hill and we heard her scream and saw
her jump out. I was awful sorry. That’s
all, father.”

It was not quite as bad as Mr. Meredith had feared,
but it was quite bad enough. “I must punish
you, Carl,” he said sorrowfully.

“Yes, I know, father.”

“I—­I must whip you.”

Carl winced. He had never been whipped.
Then, seeing how badly his father felt, he said cheerfully,

“All right, father.”

Mr. Meredith misunderstood his cheerfulness and thought
him insensible. He told Carl to come to the
study after supper, and when the boy had gone out
he flung himself into his chair and groaned again.
He dreaded the evening sevenfold more than Carl did.
The poor minister did not even know what he should
whip his boy with. What was used to whip boys?
Rods? Canes? No, that would be too brutal.
A timber switch, then? And he, John Meredith,
must hie him to the woods and cut one. It was
an abominable thought. Then a picture presented
itself unbidden to his mind. He saw Mrs. Carr’s
wizened, nut-cracker little face at the appearance
of that reviving eel—­he saw her sailing
witch-like over the buggy wheels. Before he could
prevent himself the minister laughed. Then he
was angry with himself and angrier still with Carl.
He would get that switch at once—­and it
must not be too limber, after all.

Carl was talking the matter over in the graveyard
with Faith and Una, who had just come home.
They were horrified at the idea of his being whipped—­and
by father, who had never done such a thing!
But they agreed soberly that it was just.

“You know it was a dreadful thing to do,”
sighed Faith. “And you never owned up
in the club.”

“I forgot,” said Carl. “Besides,
I didn’t think any harm came of it. I
didn’t know she jarred her legs. But I’m
to be whipped and that will make things square.”

“Will it hurt—­very much?” said
Una, slipping her hand into Carl’s.

“Oh, not so much, I guess,” said Carl
gamely. “Anyhow, I’m not going to
cry, no matter how much it hurts. It would make
father feel so bad, if I did. He’s all
cut up now. I wish I could whip myself hard
enough and save him doing it.”